Terra Somniorum
by Nohbdy Knows
Summary: My attempt at a 'case of the week' senario from the X-Files mid-series. I could not have made that anymore boring if I tried. Wow. Um... There is a new terror befalling a sleep remedy center in North Dakota, can Mulder and Scully find the culprit before it's too late? (I think I did better that time.)
1. Semper, Infidis

Chapter 1: Semper, Infidis

Even in the most extreme possibilities, the falsest of fallacies, a kernel of truth lay at its heart. Without this truth, the lie, the possibility of lie, no longer exists.

Brightly lit corridors, walls of unmarred white, smooth slick floors, fill the building. A lone pair of stilettos clacks down the hall. The woman, tall, blonde, stops to examine an open door. She finds the sleep study patient in her bed, hair spilled along the dampened white pillow. The tall blonde checks her vitals, spots no trouble, and turns shutting the door. The woman comes to the end to the hall swiping her key card into the slot. The scanner beeps and she leans forward to scan her retina. Her identity confirmed she proceeds out the building and onto the street. Her car, a blue Prius is parked on the front walk. She steps in side and drives. Slowly brushing her hair out of her eyes she notices a quick movement behind her. She slams the brakes but knows she is far too late. A hand covers her mouth and the car screeches to a halt. The assailant presses something cold, metallic to her throat. Her muffled scream quickly dies out.

Mulder leaned back in his office chair, placing his feet on the desk top. He split another sunflower seed with his teeth and flicked his pencil up at the ceiling. It fell, missing the mark and striking his head. Mulder glared at the disobedient pencil. He glanced across his desk where Scully was supposed to be finishing their case report. Noticing she had dozed off, Mulder smiled. The number of times she had fallen asleep on duty. He chuckled slightly. He spat the sunflowers shell out in the trash, stood and retrieved the papers from Scully. He'd let her sleep, finish the paperwork, and pick on her when she woke. Mulder returned to his desk sitting up straight, that irksome pencil in hand and began to write.

"Hey Scully," Mulder whispered gently shaking her shoulder.

"Hmmm…?" Scully's eyes flickered open, the blurry room coming into focus. She stretched her arm out, nearly hitting Mulder's chest.

"You fell asleep on the job," he smirked, "Again." Scully rolled her eyes. She noticed the light blue glow and soft hum of the projector. She stood up facing Mulder,

"And what have we here, zombies? Warlocks?"

"Har-Har," he sarcastically grumbled. He clicked on the remote bringing to light the first picture. A young woman lain out on a medical exam table. Her long blonde hair was matted with mud and grit. Mulder studied Scully as she studied the picture.

"She was found in a ditch by a research facility in North Dakota. Her car was found two blocks away—wiped of trace evidence. When they found her the medical examiner approximated time of death to be around 8-12 hours earlier."

"And... what makes it an X-file?"

"Wait for it…" He clicked the next slide revealing the reason for investigation, "…hah-za!"

"What am I looking at?" inquired Scully, squinting at a new picture, "And how is it remotely related to the first picture?" The second picture showed a skeleton, on the same table, with signs of advanced decomposition, a body buried for several years. It was surrounded by a puddle of some kind of gelatin, or liquidized substance. Some of the liquid had dripped into a puddle on the white floor, revealing its color to be pale, flesh like. Another gruesome picture showed hair, near the skull of the woman, as if it had simply taken off a wig. The next was of her hand, a small unharmed silver ring on her finger.

"That," remarked Mulder, "Is the body two hours later, pulled from the morgue for examination before burial."

"I don't know what could have caused such a thing…" Scully muttered, inching closer to the projected image.

"Mulder, it's almost as if…" she winced slightly, "Her skin has fallen off… and muscle tissues… I don't know what could've…" She trailed off. "Was anything else found upon initial examination?"

"Yeah—uh just one sec…" He said fiddling with the projector's clicker. "It broke again," he sighed. He attempted throwing the projectile, missed the trash, and turned back to Scully.

"Well, I believe it's time for manual drive," he clasped his hands together and rubbed them. Mulder held his breath and pressed the next button on the machine.

The last slide was again, of the blonde girl intact, all limbs and flesh. Her hair wash brushed away from her throat revealing a three pronged puncture wound at the base of her neck. The holes looked deep and at their edges held a mucky brown/black color, almost burned, like meat. The girl herself was otherwise unharmed. No signs of any other harm. A slight mark on her forearm suggested a struggle, but if one had taken place it was brief and wouldn't have left any evidence to study, her fingertips, like the rest of her were now a puddle of goo.

Scully pressed her hand to her head. This was an X-File, as much as they all were. But it was new. Nothing quite like it existed. Unless, she thought, you counted the alien bounty hunter. She silently cursed herself for the thought. There are no such things as aliens. Or monsters. Monsters were only men, cruel, insane, twisted men. Monsters were conjured up to place blame somewhere, on someone. But now she reasoned, she would need to find this killer. The contact of Mulder's believed that the prong marks dubbed the case an X-file. She began to think aloud,

"This was their reason for contacting you?"

"Yup. Any theories?"

"Well, it's probably not an alien vampire raised from the dead to murder young women."

"And why not?"

"Because _none _of those things exist, Mulder."

"Ever the faithless."

"Well, fine. What is your brilliant theory?"

"I don't have one," he shrugged turning off the projector and heading for the door.

"You don't know," Scully dryly remarked, "Great. So where are you going?"

"We. We are going to North Dakota so that you can look at the remains and we can solve an X-file," he holds out his arm with plane tickets, disappearing out the door frame.

"Perfect," Scully mutters grabbing her coat and following him out the door.

**AN: This is my first time writing fanfiction. I appriciate any constructive criticism but please try to be nice. Thank you for reading!  
**


	2. Magnus Caeli Regionem

Ch. 2 Magnus Caeli Regionem

One thing for certain can be ascertained from North Dakota, it is a flat land. Mirroring its neighbor Montana, one could mix up their nicknames, for 'big sky country' applies on both grounds. If you ignore the buildings, and copious corn fields, it is a land built for the sky.

"Hey Scully look at this," Mulder said pointing at the cairn as they drove past. "We are now in the middle of the continent. Rugby, North Dakota the geographical center of North America."

"Great, and next we can visit the world's largest ball of twine."

"That isn't even in North Dakota."

"Well, we could've been anywhere, you getting us so lost."

"That is hardly my fault."

"Mulder, there was a sign, a very large sign, saying 'turn left here', which you blatantly ignored."

"I didn't ignore it… I'd been driving from Minneapolis. You're lucky we aren't in a corn field somewhere."

"Why didn't you let me drive, if you were so exhausted?"

"Because."

"Muld—"

"We're here." He parked the car outside of the coroner's office. They exited the car and entered the building. A man in a dark blue uniform pointed the agents to the morgue. Another man with the same uniform greeted them at the door,

"Hi. You must be the folks from the F-B-I-?" He drew out each letters sound.

"Yes, that's us," Scully answered. "I'm Dana Scully and this is my partner Fox Mulder." She gestured over her shoulder where Mulder had picked up and was observing the contents of a jar.

"Put that down, please," the man warned Mulder. He had thin grey hair on the crown of his head. He was short, somewhat stocky with slightly yellowed teeth and dark brown eyes. The man turned to Scully, "I am Jack Conoway, the medical examiner from your case. I assume you want to see the remains?"

"Yes, and if you don't mind any details from the crime scene."

"Of course. One Miss. Lucille Valope, the odd case. I must say, it is the strangest I have ever come across."

Mr. Conoway opened the metal door to the fridge the body was kept in. He slid the table out and the putrid smell of death filled the air. He then searched filing cabinet and came back with a manila folder. He handed the folder to Mulder as Scully's eyes scrutinized the body, what was left of it. The fluid, she could now see was red, possibly blood, mixed with a brown toxin. The bones appeared clean, yet somehow much older than they should have been for a newly dead body. She noticed an odd odor to the concoction, yes it smelled putrid, but something smelled off. Scully couldn't put a name to the scent. Out of new ideas she called for the insane theorist,

"Mulder, come look at this."

"Do I have to?" he grumbled, yet went over to view the body. "What?"

"Do you have any ideas here? Because, there is no viable medical explination…"

"Not yet… but perhaps we should find out who she was, what she did. It could lead anywhere."

"Like… a conspiracy perhaps?" Scully arched her right eyebrow.

"Who knows?" Mulder smiled.

"Mr. Conoway, we need to get this fluid analyzed."

"I know. I hope to get results soon, I sent it down to the lab as soon as I discovered… the poor girl."

"Did you know this young woman?"

"No. I met her once, a sleep conference; she worked up at the sleep center."

"Where is that?" Mulder intervened.

"North, up near the county border, quite the haul considering she lived here in town."

"Does she have a next of kin?" Scully retook the interview.

"A sister. Lived with her in a house up on Ray Street." Mr. Conoway ran a hand through the thin hair on his head. "I don't know who would have wanted to kill her."

"That is what we are here to find out," Scully smiled sadly. "Let me know when the results on the fluid come in," She searched her bag for pen and paper and scrawled her number down, "O.K.?"

"Yeah," Jack said accepting the paper. "I hope you guys catch this guy. I don't want to be the next human slushie." At that, Mulder and Scully traded a look.

In poorly lit windowless room, a striking woman meets with well-muscled man. She brushed wavy brown hair off her high cheek bones and questioned him,

"Did you take care of subject 379?"

"Affirmative." He responded, emotionless.

"Are you prepared for you next course of action?"

"Affirmative."

"State case report."

"Subject 379 was inject at 11:13 p.m. three days ago. She succumbed immediately. The effects were exactly as expected. No trace evidence is possible. There is one complication…" He hesitated knowing her severe anger.

"What?" she snapped.

"Two FBI agents were flown out from Washington D.C. this morning. They are investigating." He dipped his head down fearing a blow to his face.

"But they won't find anything will they?" Her slate grey eyes gleamed and she smiled coldly.

"Probably not sir, but they specialize in—" He was abruptly cut off.

"You will make sure that they don't find anything." She stated coldly as if it were already fact.

"Affirmative." He gulped, catching the undertone. It was an at all costs game, if the agents got too close…

The motel was in it basics what every motel was: a place to stay whilst investigating a case. The building was dark brown, one floor with several cars in the lot. The cheap neon sign read 'The Middle Motel'; and stated vacancy. The place showed signs of being run down, an ancient soda machine without any thing in it, spider webs on the overhang from the roof.

"You always pick the classiest places," Scully grumbled exiting the car.

"If we go over budget any more than we already have…"

"I know, but certainly there are better places to stay."

"No, only two motels in town, and one is full."

They walked through the door with a soft whoosh of wind. The front desk was empty. The entire room was empty aside from the desk. A single door led back to another room, it was shut. Mulder rang the bell on the desk. No one replied and he rang it several more times until he caught Scully's glare of annoyance.

"Hello!" He yelled, switching gears from the bell, "Hey is anybody here?" The question went unanswered for a few minutes.

"I don't think anyone is coming," Scully yawned. They agents jumped when they heard a crash coming from the back room. They looked at one another, nodded, and pulled out their guns. Mulder leaned against the door and heard nothing. Slowly he turned the door knob and rushed into the room, Scully at his heels.

**AN: Thank you to anyone reading. I know I am not very good at this yet, but, I hope to provide a brief entertainment for you fanfiction readers. I don't know how often I will update, I expect it will be as sporadic as my inspiration and possibly waning as my attention span when editing. Feel free to review, I like feedback, if not, that's perfectly fine too.**


	3. Quoniam Non Formosa Oderunt Me

Ch. 3 Quoniam Non Formosa Oderunt Me

Mulder and Scully immediately lowered their weapons, finding a girl screaming upon their sudden entrance. She pulled out her ear buds and a cacophony of loud rap music filled the air. She was about 17, brownish hair up in a high pony tail, gum in her gapping mouth and suddenly vehemently angry.

"Who the hell are you?" She shouted at the agents, eyes nervously darting back and forth.

Mulder rolled his eyes and turned to look at Scully, who appeared mildly annoyed at the trouble.

"Mulder and Scully," He got out his badge, "We're with the FBI."

"Ok, I swear I didn't mean to run the stop light, I mean l didn't want to it was late, I was tired. My boyfriend, he'd just called and I thought he was in trouble, only turns out that he was just drunk and then my car was low on gas and I needed an oil change so I needed to get there fast and I just did it. I wouldn't have if—"

"We aren't here about a stoplight. We'd like to stay here," Scully interrupted the girls roving tale. The girl looked blank.

"At the motel?" Scully spoke slowly, as one speaks to a young child.

"Oh," she dawned a look of comprehension. "You guys are here… oh." She led them to the front desk. Mulder handed over the credit card, the girl scanned it and looked up to ask,

"Would the two of you like a king or queen?"

"What?" asked Scully.

"You know, a bed, to sleep on, or not, whatever not my business. Kinda the point of a motel, lady."

"Two separate rooms. We are FBI partners."

"You sound like my grandpa," the girl snorted. She rummaged through the drawer searching for room keys.

"You thought…" Mulder tilted his head.

"Because we aren't together. I mean we are partners but we aren't _together,_" Scully clarified.

"Whatever," the girl snapped her gum, "I so don't care." She shoved the card and keys across the desk and went into the back room slamming the door behind her.

"Why does every one think we're together?" Scully turned asking Mulder as they headed down the parking lot to look for their rooms.

"Because they know I'm irresistible," Mulder smiled cheekily and Scully rolled her eyes. "Don't hate me because I'm beautiful," he tilted his chin up and winked, veering off to his door. Scully sighed shaking her head and found her own room.

-o0o-

A small house on Ray Street, painted grey, with a small tidy lawn, Mulder didn't find anything interesting about it. The car in the drive was plain, a dark blue Pontiac, Mulder didn't find that interesting either. No, what strikes him as odd is that the house, for all it plan neutrality, didn't have any windows. It had a door, a normal off-white door, but not a single window.

He approached the door and extended his hand knocking twice. A woman opened the door, hair hap hazardously falling out of a high bun,

"He-hello? Ca-an I help you?" she stuttered nervously.

"Hi, Miss. Valope? I'm Mulder, with the FBI. I'd like to talk to you about your sister, if you don't mind."

"Lucy? She died." The woman frowned. She slowly opened the door wide enough for Mulder to go into the house. The house, as he expected was dark. The lights were barley flickering and glowed soft orange. Mulder surveyed the contents of the room, a few couches, and a battered television, nothing unordinary. Nothing but the woman herself. Mulder however began to see that she wasn't quite sane. He faced the woman,

"Do you know anyone who would've wanted to hurt your sister?" He spoke softer than he normally would; he had not wanted to upset the broken woman.

"Lucy? No. She was nice." The woman spoke simply, much like a child. The woman herself could've been described as child-like. Small shaky hands, large blue eyes, demure posture, they all marked her as fragile. Something one could break very easily. Mulder hadn't expected this. The file hadn't mentioned a mental illness in the family. He continued cautiously,

"Miss. Valope, did your sister ever behave strangely? In the last couple of days?" Miss Valope, to her credit didn't cry or scream or do anything else crazy. She paused a moment, eyes glazing over and spoke in a whisper,

"She…she told me, 'Mellie, be good,' like mama used to, she held me, like always when I couldn't sleep. I never sleep. Always awake. Adrift at sea. In the sky, like a balloon. She tried alright. Got a pretty house, no lights. Always night in the castle. But no sleep. She works on sleep every day. Every night she has an adrift balloon. Strange, Mr. Mulder? I don't know if it was ever not." Mellie's breath hitched and she fell silent, tears forming in her pale blue eyes,

"You should go Mr. Mulder. No one's here anymore."

"Miss. Valope, you're here," he pointed out softly, reaching out to comfort her.

She backed away from his touch and tilted her head, eyes full of tears, yet, in a way, empty, "Not really."

Mulder walked out of the house, looking over his shoulder as Melody Valope closed her door. She struggled against the weight of the wood, and he waited for the click of the lock to turn away. She was certainly off, not quite mentally aware, but not completely gone. Mulder had seen his fair share of strange, in humans and non-humans. He knew she had to remain a suspect, due to her close relationship with Lucy, but watching her struggle with the door, watching her so sad and empty, he couldn't quite picture her as a murderer, and couldn't quite rule her out.

He cellular went off in a series of jingly notes. He answered.

"Mulder, it's me. I just finished talking to Mr. Corroway, the lab results came back."

"What did you find?" He began strolling back to his car.

"I would say you aren't going to believe it but…"

"Yeah, yeah, 'what _don't_ I believe in?' go on." He smiled a little, glad for the lack of face to face, and opened his car door.

"The sample came back as a positive match for Lucille's blood, hair and tissue. In that mixture however they found a completely unknown agent." Scully ran a hand through her red-orange hair," It's some kind of biotoxin. Incredibly poisonous. We isolated it and set it loose on a sample of living tissue. It was…it literally melted the tissue down to a liquidized form. It is incredible, yet utterly terrifying."

"Hmm," Mulder paused and sat down in the car.

"Any news on your end? How was her sister?"

"She was… off. I don't know if she had anything to do with it. She didn't seem was mentally or physically capable, but I've yet to see that stop anyone."

"Hmm," Scully skeptically hummed pausing for more viable information.

"We need to go up to the sleep center. She was coming home from work; it's likely someone there knows something."

"Have a theory yet?"

"Working on it. It has something to do with sleep… her sister apparently doesn't."

"Doesn't what? Have anything to do with sleep?"

"No. She literally doesn't sleep, their house has no windows."

"She doesn't sleep because the house has no windows?" Scully sounded rather confused.

"No the house has no windows because she doesn't sleep."

"So, what Mulder, the sleep monster killed her?"

"Maybe. Maybe one of her patients is a sleep monster."

"Right a sleep monster. That explains the sludge pile of human flesh." Mulder practically heard the eye rolling through the phone. I need time away from this woman, he thought.

"I know it needs work. I can probably explain better in person; I'll pick you up in a few minutes." He fumbled a bit with the phone, dropping it to the car floor, before he could end the call. Oddly, he heard two clicks, not one, as Scully hung up her end.

**AN: About time I said, "I don't own anything." So, "I don't own anything." Nobody sue me please. Thanks to anyone still bothering to read. Have a nice day! **


	4. Conversatus in Silentio

Ch. 4 Conversatus In Silentio

The North Dakota Sleep Research Center was built much like any building. Aside, that is, from being in the middle of sky country, farms stretching out from all sides. In itself it was brown, brick, and altogether every kind of neutral boring a building could be. One story, windows dotting the top and bottom floors, in regular intervals. There was a drive, with several parked cars asleep on the sides, no lot or parking garage. It was at the dead end of a long winding road that happened to be named Naterburn. Not that it was significant just a really odd name for a road, Mulder thought. Almost as odd as the name Scully had given her dog. _Almost._

The duo reached the front desk encountering a 'Miss. Olson' or so said her name tag. She called up to the offices and told Mulder and Scully that Dr. Johnston would see them now. The quickly hustled off to the elevator. Her duties done for the day Missy Olson slipped off her name tag and handed the shift off.

"Don't have too much fun Jerry!" She smiled at her replacement. Jerry chuckled.

"I promise not to," He hollered as the door closed after Missy.

Miss. Olson began to unlock her car noting an odd, almost acidic smell. She leaned down to check under her car for a leak when something cool and smooth brushed her leg. She turned around looking surprised at a man holding some unknown kind of injecting device to her leg. She yelped in pain as the needles pierce her skin leaving a three pronged puncture wound. Missy jumped away but she was far too late. Her assailant was long gone, ran off in some direction, she couldn't tell her vision turned hazy, marbled by clouds of black ink. Fire burned through her veins and she staggered down into the ditch next to her car. She clawed at her face, leaving gauges of bright red blood and skin hanging from her nails, trying to free herself from the poison, but she knew she was much too late, she was already dead.

-o0o-

John Johnston welcomed the agents to his office. The office was simple, clean, organized and very… dark. The floor was a rich brown mahogany, the walls a deep burgundy, his desk and chairs a dark black, creating an even more dramatic effect, the blinds were sharply drawn, shutting out even the possibility of light. He offered them a drink reaching for his Scotch, but they both politely declined. He shrugged and poured himself a glass. No use in stopping because the governments here, he thought to himself.

"I know y'all are here on behalf of my recently dead employee," he drawled, a smooth southern accent flowing out of his lips. "Miss. Valope was a good sort. Came to work, no quells, or disappointments, she was trying research in hopes that we might find a cure for her poor lil' sis."

"When was the last time you saw Lucille Valope?" Scully questioned, taking the lead in their investigation.

"I left a couple o' hours afore her. She wanted to stay late. Look at a patient… Carly I think. Said goodbye, left. No one else was 'round so I told her to lock up. Then I headed home."

"So, you were the last one to see her alive?"

"I s'pose so."

"Mr. Johnston, was she acting odd or suspiciously when you left that evening?"

"No—wait. Come to think of it she did do something weird," he paused brows narrowed in confusion. An awkward silence ensued as Scully continued to stare at him and he continued to stare off into the distance. Mulder looked from her to him waiting for the silence to be broken. Scully waved a hand in front of him,

"Mr. Johnston? What did she do?" Johnston snapped up, nearly falling from his seat,

"Oh! Umm… She kept on checking her cell phone. She did it perfectly regular like, once every half hour. 'Twas odd because she didn't usually even bring a cellular; I didn't know she had one. I didn't say anything; I thought she might have acquired a boyfriend, or was checking up on her sister."

"Did you see anyone new come into the office?"

"No… not that I knew of, and I check everyone coming past the front doors on our tapes."

"Did any of your other employees have an issue with Lucille?"

"She wasn't a big talker. I don't think she had any enemies," He frowned slightly, "or friends."

"We are going to need a list of all your workers for that night and any surveillance footage."

"Is that all?" He asked tapping his fingers on the hardwood of his desk. Scully turned to look at her partner conversing in silence. He spoke,

"Mr. Johnston where are you from? How did you end up here?" Johnston looked up in surprise,

"I don't see how that's relevant."

"Just answer," Mulder said resigned slightly after receiving a confused glance from Scully.

"Alabama, in the suburbs near Montgomery. I came here with the job. Worked in the south 'till I heard the money was better up here, open management position, and most people didn't want it because they'd need to move their families. I'm alone; it wasn't much of a decision. How is it relevant again?" Mulder acted as if he hadn't heard the question.

"Do you mind if we walk around, talk to some of the workers? Patients?"

"You are not permitted to discuss their treatments," Johnston stood and glared at Mulder. Figuring that was as much permission as they were going to get, Mulder and Scully retreated into the hall.

Johnston poured himself another glass of scotch and sunk back down into his chair. He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and took out the letter he'd received several days ago; he read through it one final time. Once his door was shut and he was sure no one else was looking he fished a lighter out of his pocket and lit the paper. It burned quickly as the hungry flame lapping up the ink stained letter. He dropped the flaming mess in the trash bin before his hand began to burn. Johnston sipped his scotch hoping the matter would resolve itself soon.

-o0o-

Mulder and Scully stood under the bright hall lights in the white walled, white floored treatment center. A few nurses in white uniforms floated by, strangely silent. The entire center was oddly silent.

"This is… quiet," Scully squinted looking left and right. She had seen many hospitals and research centers usually; they bustled with life and were harrowed by death. She felt nothing in this building. It was clean, organized, logical, and while she felt it odd, she also felt drawn to it. The perfect organization and silence were flawless. This center made so much sense, yet none. She couldn't fathom this level of analytical perfection, she wasn't even sure what exactly what research went on here, but now she needed to know.

"Something isn't right here," Mulder whispered almost afraid to make too much noise. The logical, rigid structure of the building repulsed him. It was too organized. Humans tended towards chaotic treatment, especially if dealing with insomniacs. He wasn't sure why there wasn't any sort of mess anywhere to be seen. He wasn't even sure what was happening way out here, but now he felt determined to find out.

The looked at each other, understanding instantly their new intent, the way that they just knew each other, the way no one else could.

-o0o-

The striking woman met with her informant again. Her blue eyes flashed at her informants nervous darting glances about the room.

"The secretary for afternoon shift found evidence. I resolved the matter," he said swallowing loudly. He wasn't sure what her reaction would be. He eyed her cautiously. She responded in a measured way,

"It will draw more suspicion. I suspect it couldn't have been avoided. The agents?"

"They are clueless. I intercepted a phone conversation. They obtained the toxin, but cannot quantify it…" he paused looking up to see how she processed the information. She tilted her head waiting for him to continue. "They talked with Melody Valope." The woman's eyes darkened. He rushed on, "She was useless, she remembers nothing." The striking woman calmed down instantly in control again,

"If they talk to her again, be sure to listen. Don't let them know you are following them. Where are they now?"

"I had to leave them. They entered the sleep center."

"Not adequate. We will need to learn the information they obtain there."

"I… don't think I can."

The woman growled a bit, eyes sharp, "You'd better."

"How?" He looked puzzled. She smiled slightly thinking of the man she'd met once there, at the center. How he'd answered when she asked how she could be free of that prison. She leaned down to the informant's ear and whispered.

-o0o-

**AN: Thank you for reading! Those who have reviewed, you have made my day. Any suggestions for improvement are ****appreciated. Optimus uoluntatum ad vos! (Best of wishes to you).**


	5. Nox Nocte Dormire Pressisse Tenaciter

Ch. 5 Nox Nocte Dormire Pressisse Tenaciter

The high vaulted ceilings, combined with the endless white and steel made the center look almost futuristic. Scully wandered down rows of rooms, all shut, locked, and silent. At the end of the hall she reached the reception desk.

"Hello?" She inquired, although no one was around. She slid her knuckles across the smooth surface of the desk. Quickly growing bored of waiting she shuffled around to the other side of the desk. Scully knew it was wrong; there wasn't probable cause, aside from a rising gut suspicion of something out of the ordinary. Oh no, she thought, Mulder was rubbing off on her. This is exactly the kind of thing he would do; follow a gut instinct that would later lead to an inexplicable conclusion on her report, unless she revealed his impudence. She ran a hand through her hair. She could always move. Go back, it wasn't too late to just move out from behind the desk, pretend she'd never been back there. Scully stayed behind the desk.

The desk top, steel grey, spotless, contained not a single paper. The only thing occupying its space was a computer. There weren't any filing cabinets, only a phone hung on the wall. Seeing no one around and no doors near the reception area Scully sat down on the silvery grey chair. She scooted closer to the computer glancing up one again in surveillance. She touched the enter key, it revealed a locked computer, password protected. She sighed heavily. It was useless, it was at times like these when she wouldn't mind if the Lone Gunmen had come along—crazy as they were, they could easily access the information that she wished quantify about this place, what they did here. Scully stood; it was time to look elsewhere. Another room may hold files, or someone to question, but this odd little corner held no more knowledge.

-o0o-

Mulder walked quickly, no need to slow down for his short legged partner… what nice little legs she had though. He smiled slightly, stopped, silently scolding himself and resolving to focus on the issue a hand. He was on the second floor, and had yet to run into a nurse, doctor or any other staff member. The doors were all shut. He tried to open one, and completely failed to notice the small scanner by each one as well as a screen above the door, one half showed the person inside, asleep, awake or somewhere in-between. The screens second half showed the first name and birthdate of every patient. He paused, the victim, had treated a patient before she had left. Cath? Caroline? No, Carly. He remembered the earlier talk with Mr. Johnston, the boss with something to hide. He scanned the rooms quickly now, looking for Carly. He found her, awake fortunately. Mulder knocked at her door.

"Ms. Valope? Is that you?" the voice was whisper soft, much like the girl. Her thick, brown hair spilling down her thin shoulders as she stood, one step towards the door. Her light frame hardly appeared to move, only the swish of clothes around her confirmed movement.

"Hello…Carly. I'm Mulder, with the FBI. Do you mind letting me in?" He leaned against the door slightly and was completely surprised at how quickly it opened, how quickly he fell into the room and how quickly the door slammed shut behind him.

"Er. Hi."

"The FBI? What are you doing here?" The woman said, yet her behavior was complety at odds with her calm question. She appeared to be scouring her dresser drawer for something. She pulled out a pen and paper pad. Mulder suddenly grasped her meaning. They were being surveyed, and she wanted to tell him something. He smiled, intending to find out what, and continued to help with the charade.

"We are investigating the death of Lucille Valope. Being the last patient she checked on, do you know anything about her death?"

"No. Nobody told me she died," Carly's face showed genuine sadness upon a brief glance up. On the page she had written:

_We are trapped here. Help. Please._

Mulder struggled to hide the look of anger—not much surprise though, being typical Mulder, he believed in some conspiracy or another. This time however, the only thing he knew was that something was very wrong at the sleep center, and Carly confirmed his fears.

"Is there anything I can do for you Carly?" he asked, hoping to sound like he was responding to her grief, yet in truth he was responding to the distress signal.

"I will miss her, but you cannot fix grief FBI."

_They are watching. Find Lucy's killer. Save us._

"Why can't I help you now?" He asked, answering only her written word. She only shook her head in reply.

_I am sorry that you cannot. We would kill you. We would be—_She quickly flipped the paper over and shoved it into a drawer as a nurse walked in.

"Hello, sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave," the nurse smiled cheerfully.

"I'm an FBI agent, you can't—"

"I'm sorry sir, it's time for her treatment. Then she must rest. You really must go." She sounded irritated. Mulder glared, but preceded out the door, tongue in cheek. He would get the patients out. He would find out, whom or what killed Lucy. He stalked out into the hall and began to wait. The nurse had to come out sometime, and he planned on finding out what was going on.

-o0o-

Scully wandered the halls of the first floor, trying several doors and finding them all locked. She found the exit protected by an identifier scan. One for a key card, the other retinal, they both were incredibly advanced. She turned around, looking for the stairwell; nothing was left to be found. The hall she found her stairs, discovering that they also went down. Scully walked down the stairs, finding an open door, left ajar by a forgetful nurse or doctor.

She nosed her way inside one had on the door she almost jumped out as she saw the lab. Scully shuffled in eyes wide, jaw agape, in disbelief. She found herself in lab. It was dark, sharp contrast to the blinding upstairs, and had many computers, humming with noise. That wasn't anything alarming, no. What lead her to shock was that, in the lab were several people, stored in large upright tanks, with the same fluid that was found in, and that had disintegrated Lucille Valope's body. It was all the more non quantifiable now. It surrounded these people, yet they were alive. Each was hooked up to a m vitals monitor, as well as an EMP. She observed them all to be in deep stages of REM sleep, due to the deep and high blips on the screen. She held up a hand as if to touch the glass they were enclosed in.

"You really shouldn't be in here," The voice shock her and she whirled around, hand still hovering in the air. A figure stood outlined by the light from outside the door.

"I'm special agent Dana Scully with the FBI, my partner and I are investigating the death of one of the employees here, Lucille Valope. What are you doing down here?" She gestured to the bodies, concern highting her voice.

"We have our business cleared with the government. I am not a liberty to share our research Agent Scully." The figure stepped into the light, revealing himself and a long dark scar across the left side of his face.

"Are you hurting these people? Because, let me be the first to tell you, that is against the law, and is not cleared by any U.S. government and I will prosecute you," she furrowed her brow, angry suddenly. The man walked closer to her changing the subject,

"It doesn't matter Agent Scully, because you will never know. You will be here, with them," he shrugged as if it were the most logical, simple statement in the world.

Scully pulled out her gun, "Don't you come any closer." He smiled walking ever closer. Scully aimed, pulling the trigger. The gun didn't fire and she looked at him quizzically. When he didn't offer any explanation, she checked her mag, which was fully loaded. She glanced up in surprise, finding him at her side.

"You know I can't kill you. Someone would get around to missing you," he lowered his voice, picking a syringe out of his pocket. He uncapped it letting some of the fluid escape and he smile, "And there really wouldn't be much fun in killing you either."

Scully attempted to him with her gun, he knocked it away with the swipe of a hand, "You can't do this, my partner will find you. You—" He lashed out attempting to grab hold of her. Scully fought back kicking at his knee, she missed and he swung around catching her shirt sleeve, then gripping her arm in a vice. She struggled flailing her limbs, yet completely unable to hit him. He smiled broadly, insanely, as he touched the needle to her neck,

"Nighty-night, sleep tight."

Her bright eyes flickered shut and she slumped to the ground.

**AN: As always, thank you! I would love to know what you think, If you don't feel like sharing, you don't need to, but it doesn't mean I don't want to know! Regardless, thank you for giving my story a read. **


	6. Pulchra Mendacia et Herciatore Vera

Ch. 6 Pulchra Mendacia et Herciatore Vera

The nurse, finally done with Miss. Carly's treatment, came into the hall quietly closing the door. She turned expecting to see her pristine hall, instead found herself face to face with Mulder.

"Sir, I asked you to leave," she sighed, if this man was going to disrupt her day, she would never get everything done.

"Hold on," he said grabbing her elbow as she tried to walk away, "I need to ask you a few questions." The nurse scowled, but stopped facing him and pulling her elbow from his grasp,

"I have five minutes."

Mulder nodded looking relieved, "Have you noticed any suspicious activity lately?" The nurse didn't say anything, just looked at him awhile and he added, "Even if it sounds absolutely insane, anything that you think couldn't happen, but seemingly has?"

At that, she began to talk cautiously, "I've had patients, names and faces I saw every day, and sometimes they would disappear. I would look through my files in the morning, find theirs gone and then open the computer, see if they'd checked out. But, when I looked there was no record of them ever existing. I didn't know what to think, so I asked around, but every other nurse and doctor had no idea what I was talking about. They thought I was working too hard and told me to go home."

"No records… I think someone is tampering with your files, perhaps some thing."

"But it wasn't just the files; they would need to mess with the memories of everyone here," the nurse said eyes wide, "That is impossible. Is it possible?"

Mulder looked completely serious, he worked in with the impossible, the improbable, as he said, "Not only is it possible, it is very likely."

The nurse's jaw lowered a bit in disbelief, and she snapped it shut, "What, then are you investigating these people? Lucy, do you think the same people did this to her?"

"I think," Mulder ran a hand over his jaw, "I think I am just beginning to understand what is going on here. Where is the elevator? I need to find Scully."

"Just down that hall. What is going on here?" She paused mid-sentence and began again, "I was wrong to mention anything. They probably just left." The nurse instantly looked more stoic, as though the panic of the vanishing patients had never happened. Mulder spoke slowly, "I think, someone or something is stealing sleeping patients..." The nurse was entirely baffled by that and shook her head, almost acting like a different person,

"I have people to give treatments; you are crazy, spooky, even." Mulder pressed the elevator button rocking back on his heels, waiting. He frowned slightly hearing his 'nickname', how it was that everyone was so deep in denial of anything paranormal, that even when it attacked them, they refused to believe. How faced with a monster or aliens, people would come up with anything and everything in order to keep their world logical. The way they thought it should be, because the world is easier to face if everything follows the rules. But nothing follows the rules, he has learned this and now rules seem so confining, he had seen so many broken. Extraterrestrial life, humanoid monsters that feed upon humans, vampires, werewolves, a million things in between, that he was alone in believing. He only wanted the truth; the problem lay in the fact that most people would rather believe a beautiful lie than a harrowing truth. His thoughts turned to his partner, the logical woman, she who believed in science, his perfect foil. She had so clearly seen every horrible truth that he had, but she refused to believe. He shook his head of the thoughts, they would, as always find the killer whatever it turned out to be, and she would deny everything that happened in front of her eyes. It was alright though, she kept him in check, stopped him from believing with no precedent, made him think twice. He began wondering if she'd found anything when the elevator arrived with a faint, 'ping' and he stepped inside.

-o0o-

Scully awoke in a white hospital bed, groggy she pushed the red-orange hair off her face moving into a sitting position. She found herself still completely clothed, attached to nothing, yet a faint beeping of a heart monitor reached her ears. She looked around at her new surroundings, void of life, color and just about everything, containing only herself and the bed, she groaned—still in the hospital. She stood, slightly dizzy at first, Scully overviewed her symptoms, dizzy, headache, slight pain of the injection site, and concluded she was given a mild anesthesia.

But why? She thought, unable to fathom the point of sedating someone only to leave them in a hospital room. She remembered the room with the people floating in the lethal solution in a wave of blurred memory and sat down again. Why did she get herself into these situations? Right, because she worked with Mulder. He had a knack for finding the most complicated, confusing and life threating cases. She sighed, and stood back up, feeling better again.

Scully made her way to the door, and turned the knob. Her brows raised in surprise, finding the door open. She slipped into the hall looking down both directions and not seeing her assailant. She sprinted down the halls looking for a way out, back to Mulder to discuss what she had learned.

Her heels clacked against the linoleum floors and she mentally chided herself for wearing them. She reached what appeared to be the corner of the hall, but no exits were present, only patient rooms, doors all shut. She tried one, locked too. She continued, finding more and more branches of hallways, yet with every turn she took she never found an exit. She grumbled in frustration. She tried turning left at every branch out figuring she'd eventually come to an exit, no such luck. She began to slow down exhausted from sprinting and trying desperately to locate the exit. She slowly sunk down to the ground sitting down. Scully found that she was unsure where she was, or if she hadn't been given just anesthesia. She looked at the hallways that appeared to grow longer as she started. Endless white and she remembered the earlier bit of the hospital she had seen. This new bit was just as organized, but she didn't feel drawn to it anymore. She rested her head back against the wall, thinking whatever she was given it was defiantly not just anesthesia. She closed her eyes for but a moment, attuning herself to her symptoms again, she was a doctor, she could find out what they had given her. Scully bit her lip in frustration, nothing to go off of. Her eyes blinked open and her mouth opened in involuntary surprise. She was back in the bed. Where she awoke. Mere minutes ago.

She jumped up out of the bed, swearing she had heard a faint chuckle as she did so. She threw open the door, the hall was there, the exact same way as before. Perhaps she had simply been dreaming before? She wondered silently. She stood out in the hall, empty again,

"Hello?" she called, met with no response she pinched herself. Fairly certain she wasn't asleep as a faint prick of pain graced her skin, she started down the hall. Only to find that it ended abruptly only a few turns away. She turned around and went down the other hall, going straight. She walked slowly, carefully not to miss any exits. She noticed that doors started to become spaced further and further apart. When Scully hadn't seen a door for a while she scrunched her eyebrows in confusion. She walked faster, no doors still. She broke out in a flat run, ignoring the cries of pain stemming from her feet. At last she reached a door on her immediate right and flung it open. It was the room she woke up in. The empty but for a single white hospice bed room seemed to taunt her.

Scully threw an irritated, disgusted glare into the room, as if it were the rooms fault. She cursed the man with the needle and whatever drugs she'd been given. She'd probably been running in circles. She took a much deeper breath than necessary and stood shakily to her feet. She walked out into the hall, tried a door knob near her own, it was locked. Scully tried several more until she felt one give way. She opened the door again, expecting to see the hallway and was greeted instead with the outdoor prairie land. Scully looked around in utter confusion. She stepped forward into the grass, felt the breeze of mid-day on her skin. Rolling hills and spans of dusty grass stretched outwards to the horizon on either side of her. Behind her the door appeared attached to a remarkable small building. She walked forwards into the field; she would get back to Mulder and the investigation, if she had to walk. She slipped off her heels, as the uneven ground drove them to make blisters on her feet. As she walked she felt a few of the effects of the drugs wear off, she was no longer dizzy, the world appeared much clearer. The scenery so far remained unchanged and the dust of the grass seemed to find its way up her legs, unto her clothes and in her hair. Scully sighed it was going to be a long walk back from this godforsaken middle of nowhere to the godforsaken middle of nowhere from where she'd come.

-o0o-

Mulder exited the elevator, on the first level where Scully ought to be. He passed by a desk and a computer, the light flickered on asking for a passcode. He knew of none, so he continued on in search of his partner. He wandered the halls, checking the open doors, which were few. Almost every door was locked. He scratched his head, finding himself back at the desk with a computer on it. Where could she have gone? A male nurse, or maybe doctor entered the first floor and Mulder turned to ask,

"My partner was checking out this floor, have you seen her? Short, red hair, annoyingly logical?"

The man, older with a white mustache sighed, "No one has been on this floor in for three hours. She must have left. Not much to see down here just locked labs." The man walked around Mulder checking his chart, as if people disappeared from here every day.

"But she was just down here; I watched her walk down the stairs!" He sounded indignant, he knew, but there was no way she'd just vanished. She wasn't a patient, and she wouldn't wander off, that was his job.

"Sorry, clock says nobody's been here since Jackie, a lab assistant of mine. If you'll excuse me I have work to do."

"No. Where is she? Did someone take her?" Mulder was becoming increasingly agitated.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," the man angrily growled, "but if you don't leave me alone I will have you kicked off the premises. Clear?"

"Crystal," Mulder growled, jaw set, matching the old man's tone and stalking off in the opposite direction.

-o0o-

Scully, though without a watch, was certain she had been walking for hours. No sign of life showed itself. No roads appeared, no home, just prairie, here, now, forever. She sighed sitting down as night began to fall. She would need food, shelter. Originally hoping to find other humans before nightfall she hadn't put too much thought into what would happen if she didn't. Grumbling with exhaustion she leaned back into the cool dust of the prairie, closing her eyes and willing sleep to overcome her exhaustion.

A harsh light shown over Scully, asleep and her eyes shot open. In the room she had first woken up in, she was again. Feeling sick she curled her knees to her chest. Had she been dreaming? No, she thought, it was so _real._ She swallowed thickly looking up into the harsh florescent lights. She still felt exhausted. She could come up with no feasible explanation, other than she had been asleep, maybe she still was.

The door opened and Scully's attention snapped to the figure in the door. A young woman stepped out, brown hair, stormy gray eyes, sharp chin. She smiled coldly,

"Hello."

"You have to help me," Scully begged, far past done with waking in the same room.

"No," the woman said monotonously, "No, I don't."

"But—I was drugged. I'm with the FBI. Dana Scully," She fumbled with her coat, finding the badge and holding it up confidently.

"Impressive. But considering I am the one keeping you here, I'm not going to let you escape," The woman offered a wolfish smile, as though pleased with herself.

"You," Scully sprang up running at the woman, who simple disappeared and reappeared a few feet away. Scully felt her jaw unhinge. Oh, if only Mulder could see this, he'd have a field day, she thought, wait, scratch that, glad he's not here. She'd never hear the end of it. Unless she was dreaming, in which case, this wasn't even real. Well, that isn't at all confusing, she pondered to herself. The woman spoke again drawing her attention,

"Dana Scully, pleased with your new home?"

"I will find a way out. I will bring down the law on you, kidnapping a federal agent, or anyone for that matter, is a federal crime."

"Not if you don't get caught," she grinned manically.

"My partner will catch you," She put confidence in Mulder, he'd find her, he always did.

"Well, not if he can't find you," She continued smiling wildly. Scully glared,

"Where am I? What is this place?"

"You don't know?" The brown haired woman giggled, it was a light airy sound, mismatched with her cool demeanor and harsh actions. She caught her breath again,

"Welcome to Terra Somniorum."

"I'm sorry," Scully asked, "What? It doesn't exist."

"Terra Somniorum. Latin. The Land of Dreams. And you," she pointed at Scully crinkling her nose, "are trapped here, for me." Scully opened her mouth to speak, yell about the lack of answers, the complete lack of possiblity of any truth in the woman's statement. The Land of Dreams? How stupid did this woman think her to be? Any rational, non-insane person could tell you it doesn't exist. It wasn't real. The woman walked out the door she'd come in, and Scully, coming to her senses ran after her, but in the few measly seconds it took her to follow the retreating figure the gray eyed woman was gone.

**AN: As always, thank you for reading! This one got away from me, I wasn't sure exactly where to end it, so it's a bit longer than the other chapters...**


	7. Furari Navitas

Ch. 7 Furari Navitas

"We have captured the inquisitive agent. Excellent work," the woman smiled at her partner, it wasn't a happy smile, much too sadistic to be joy.

"Er… yes. I followed the plan. He allowed me in," the burly man was ever cautious around his boss.

"Good, good. Now what to do about her partner…" she hummed stroking her soft brown curls, "We can't have him disappear, inquiring minds would no doubt hunt down two missing agents sooner than one."

"But, won't they want her back? Especially the male agent, he'll look for her," the man looked conflicted.

"Of course, but we will simply release her before they have the opportunity to find her in her current state. When I am done with her, she will be freed," the woman nodded absently to herself, "She won't remember this, of that I will make sure."

"Okay…"

"Your duty is to stop the FBI agent from finding her."

"By any means necessary?"

"By any means necessary," her smirk sent chills down his spine.

-o0o-

Scully sat on the bed reserved, facing the door. She sighed; her subconscious dreams were beginning to alarm her. Opening door after door, finding nothing but little white rooms and she still didn't know if she was dreaming. Whatever she had been given, she figured it had to be some psychotropic, hallucinogenic, most likely illegal drug, it was very potent. It had to be something that blurred the line of wakefulness and reality, it was plausible. Completely plausible, so why did she feel as though she was missing something? She thought of all those people stuck in tanks of lethal solution, shuddering at the thought of her being trapped in the same position. Scully felt so very real, but knowing the effects of the drugs, she refused to let herself believe that she was doing anything but dreaming.

Even in a dream, she figured that it would do her well to theorize, about her current situation and it's relation to the death of Lucille Valope. She pondered… illegal drugs, sleep center, dead people, people in secret sleep comas, she knew they were all connected, but she couldn't see how. She wished Mulder was there, he would have some insane, odd theory, yet it would inevitably lead to the capturing of her assailant. Then Scully decided to add what Mulder may have to her clues, the insane woman of her dreams. Yes, she was odd, and the way she had said, 'you are here for me', not with. Why? Why not with… Scully determined that if in fact this was a dream, all parts of it being her own subconscious, than this particular part knew something she didn't. The next time she saw that strange brown haired, sharp boned woman, she would question her. Scully planed on rationalizing every aspect of this situation, and she planned on waking up. She stood up and began walking into the hallway, searching again for answers. Scully wasn't one to give up easily, or go without a fight.

-o0o-

Mulder paced the hall angrily, trying in vain to figure out where Scully had gone. He called her cell, leaving several messages sounding, now that he thought about it, a touch overly concerned. But she was his partner, she was solid, logical, a touchstone, she wasn't supposed to disappear. He had looked everywhere, asked every person he came across, no one had any answers. Not that she hadn't ever been in danger, but usually he found her fairly quickly, it had almost been an hour and yet, nothing. He sighed, deciding to consult the head honcho, John Johnston. The man had said he had camera's watching every move of every person in this sleep center, he would know, he would have the records. Mulder sauntered up the stairs, taking them two by two , shoving past Johnston's secretary, who shot him a glare, and threw open Johnston's door.

"You are going to tell me where Scully is. Now," he all but snarled at Johnston. Johnston scratched his head,

"I have absolutely no idea what you're prattlin' on 'bout, but I am in a meetin'," He waved his hand across the room to a board of serious faced looking doctors. Mulder's eyes swept the group of people and he didn't even pause as he got closer to Johnston,

"I have looked over every unlocked corner of this center. Every. Single. One. Scully doesn't disappear, the car is still here, so I need you to show me exactly where she is."

"I don't know," Johnston chuckled, trying to lighten the mood of the drawn faces of the doctors.

"Yes. You do, you record every move of the people here. No one comes or goes without your knowledge."

"Well I 'ave cameras but…" Johnston shrugged.

"Something is going on here, I was questioning one of your nurses, and people are going missing, one of your nurses is dead, I think maybe the energy of these people is being stolen." He had come to the conclusion that something had to be stolen, and being in a sleep center as they were, people were perfect for producing energy. He had read an X-file, one he was currently remembering in exact detail. The girl had her energy drained by a monster using a pronged device, it would insert a fluid into its victim and then steal the energy, leaving behind mush. It was weird, and dismissed easily as no similar cases were ever found. But Mulder had a feeling he was onto something, or at least close and was confident enough to announce his theory. Not, he mused, that he ever lacked confidence in his theories.

This set Johnston into a fit of hysterical laughter, "Energy. Whoo… Ha ha. You… you belong in a loony bin."

A short doctor with curly blonde hair spoke up, "And you got the last part wrong. Two people are dead." This caught Mulder's attention from his scowl burning into Johnston as his head snapped up,

"What?"

"Missy Olson, the front desk receptionist. She was found a couple hours ago in the ditch by her car, just a puddle of the same stuff Lucy Valope turned into."

"What is that stuff?" Mulder asked, more to himself than the doctor.

"We don't know we sent the remains to Dr. Conoway, you met him already I believe," the blonde was tucking stray strands of hair behind her ears.

Mulder wondered; Scully had called it a bio toxin, capable of mass destruction or cells or something like that. He knew that he was going to need to speak with Doctor Conoway, as soon as he finished with Johnston and those tapes. And found Scully of course.

"Johnston. The tapes, I want to go over them," sounding shockingly calm he stood closer to Johnston.

"Fine. If you'll leave us then," he gestured to his secretary, "Janet, show Mr. Mulder here our security footage. Whatever he needs to see." Then Johnston turned back to the meeting, booming voice silencing any chatter about the recent deaths. Johnston spared a last glance out the door, hoping the FBI agent didn't truly know what was going on, and hoped even harder he never found out.

"Agent Mulder, right this way," Janet lead him down the hall to an open door. Inside the dark room were several T.V. screens, all showing different portions of the building. "You'll find what you need in here, and if you need me, I'll be in the office."

"Thanks," Mulder smiled for the first time that afternoon. He began sifting through the material, looking for the early afternoon time that she had gone missing. He found the first floor tapes and settle down in the chair to watch. Watching he later determined was a ridiculously boring task, confirmed by the securities rooms ceiling. Which Mulder had already managed to decorate with a plethora of pencils lodged in the moldable structure.

So few people walked by it was antagonizing to watch. And once a man walked by, walked out of view, turned around, presumably, and walked back from whence he came, and that was the most interesting thing Mulder had seen in an hour of watching this tape. On to the next section of hall. He recognized this one, the one with the password encrypted computer. He leaned closer to the screen as he saw his partner for the first time. She paused by the desk, clearly debating something in that factual head of hers. He watched her step around the desk, and pause again. It made him smirk, her doubting a gut feeling, the same he had about that computer, and its oddity. She turned it on, siphoned through the desk, finding nothing, she had moved on. And the tape showed nothing once more.

Mulder shuffled through the tapes, locating the adjacent hall and time, sliding it into the VHS player. Scully's head bobbed down the hall, she looked side to side scanning rooms, Mulder felt a semblance of pride for his shrewd partner, no details escaping her grasp, none but the inexplicable. Then she disappeared down a stairwell. To a sublevel. So, that is where she went. Mulder grinned triumphantly. She hadn't vanished into thin air. Something he'd seen once or twice, but didn't care to dwell on, now that he knew where to find her. He hit the stop button on the tape and looked to see if the sublevel had any security footage, it didn't. In fact, he couldn't find a single mention of the sublevel in any form in the security room. He hadn't even seen the staircase, which was weird, because he had indeed scoured the center looking for her. How could he miss it? Unless... unless he was ment to miss it. Unless it was hiding down there. Whatever it was that was stealing energy, he theorized. And now… it had Scully, whatever it was or was doing, it had his partner. Of this he was absolutely certain.

**AN: Hello, me again. Just wanted to put what I had up before I get busy with holidays. Most likely nothing new until this madness is over. Thank you for reading. And those who have reviewed, few you are, but thank you. Felix Feriarum! (Happy Holidays!)**


	8. Nihil Sit Iniuria

Ch. 8 Nihil Sit Iniuria

Scully woke again with a start, the plain walls greeting her again. She groaned. This never ending torture, it was ebbing away her nerves. Every door she opened led somewhere, but never the same place, until she managed to fall asleep and wake in the white room. She pressed on, not discouraged, for the most part. Every experience felt incredibly real. And when the doors led to a place that looked like it could be real, she wanted to believe. Truly did, but there was still no proof of reality.

She opened her eyes again, but instead of being back at her room she lay in an entirely different one. Yellow strips of wall paper clung to the walls, fighting the gravity that pulled them down. An EMP and heart rate monitor rested behind her, off and silent. The lights in the hall were out, as were the ones in her room. Scully couldn't help but wonder if she was actually awake this time around. She felt her head pounding, and faint dizziness as she sat up. However, she knew that it was just as likely to be a dream. Scully slid her feet to the floor, shuffling to the door and opening it slowly.

The vacant corridor of a hospital was strewn before her. Carts left in the halls, papers piled on the desk, coating every surface of it. The halls were dark, walls painted gray and burgundy, looking like black and blood in the dim light. Scully called out,

"Hello? Anybody here?"

Met with no reply, she continued down the hall, stopping only as her shoe shattered something on the ground. Looking down she saw an empty vial, Scully leaned down and examined the shards of glass, coated in a viscous clear substance, much like the one that killed the victims in the X-file. She held a piece up to the light, and dropped it with a squeak of alarm as the glass began to dissolve between her fingertips. The vial and its vile contents dissipated within a matter of seconds, she backed up eyeing the ground with caution before proceeding down the hall.

Eventually reaching a large, open area she couldn't contain a small gasp at what she saw, on every side there were bodies. Much like in the room where she had been captured, people were fast asleep in chambers of translucent fluid. They were stripped down, hair floating in their faces, arms resting at their sides; all seemingly sound asleep in fluid that was capable of destroying glass and taking lives. Scully walked close to one of the screens that were next to the nearest human. He was a boy, about 12, golden blonde hair in his eyes. She found the screen near incomprehensible and rubbed her eyes wearily, Scully had completed med school, and she knew how to read every type of test they could be running. Yet all she saw were lines, running the course of the screen. Scully chastised herself for wanting to break down and cry; instead she fought the urge to crumple to the ground like a broken doll. She swallowed heartily, because even in she was dreaming, part of this was real, part of it was next to reality, she knew because she lived in that part.

She lived in it again when she had been returned to the white room.

This time, it wasn't empty. A heart rate monitor was bleeping loudly to her right, silver shining instruments to her left, lights up above, and the frantic sound of footsteps out yonder. Scully tried to sit up and found she simply couldn't. She could have sworn she heard voices.

"She woke?" A woman's voice rang in her ears.

"Yes…I think so," that man, who drugged her. She couldn't ever forget that voice, yet now, in the presence of this woman, it was so demure, submissive. When he had taken her out, his voice had been merciless, almost jovial.

"Well _fix _the problem. I don't pay you to do _nothing," _the woman again, Scully was positive she had heard the voice before.

"I know sir," '_sir_', Scully thought, was an incredibly strange title for a woman.

"Hrmp. Remains to be seen. Can she hear us?" Uh, yes_, _Scully thought, yes I can.

"The chemical has put her in a heavily drugged state… It's possible but unlikely." If she could have asked she would have tried to find out what chemical had put her in a drugged stated, for even if she dreamed, perhaps she knew in some manner.

"Hello Sweetie," Scully could hear a malicious smile in the voice, "You really need to sleep." She sounded vaguely patronizing, and she now recognized the voice as one from her dreams. Was she dreaming? Awake now or before? Scully didn't know anymore. She tried to respond but her mouth felt full of cotton and her jaw was immobile.

She couldn't feel the sensation of touch, but if she had been able, she would have felt the needle at her throat again, her eyes drifting shut.

Part of this was real, part a figment of imagination and drug induced coma.

"Scully, wake up," smirk hidden inside a voice, "you fell asleep again."

Scully jolted awake at the familiar tones of her partner's voice, she was back in their basement office, asleep in her chair,

"Mulder!" she threw her arms around him, burying her nose in his neck seeking comfort, regardless of "reality". She was sick of dreams and not dreams; in either she would seek a friendly face if one was to be found.

"Whoa. I, uh, you were only out a couple minutes… why the…" when she still didn't let go, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. After an even longer pause, she finally drew back still not speaking a word.

"What's wrong?" Mulder asked peering down at her melancholy face.

"Nothings wrong…" Scully tried to lie, tried to have a moment, where even if he was just a part of her imagination, her partner could offer comfort.

"_Nothings wrong. _You do know no one ever believes that?" he smiled the slightest bit as her eyes watered.

"Why not?" her voice nearly broke, "You believe in everything else." She closed her eyes as a

tear fell down her face. He feeling of being held faded.

It landed in an empty white room, and was followed by a few others.

-o0o-

Mulder raced down the stairs from Mr. Johnston's office, down. Down to the place where Scully had disappeared. The halls were dark in the sublevel, walls a dingy gray, he began to search rooms. Garbage area, loading docks, and several storage facilities later he ran into a series of locked doors. He grumbled in frustration, went back up to obtain a key. Johnston's secretary gave him one, as he was still in a meeting.

Unlocking doors, he began revealing a few more storage rooms with important things like medicine. All of the rooms were dark, and smelled medicinal. Eventually he reached the other staircase, and a room near it. This was the end. Quickly he turned the key in the lock, it clicked and he walked into the room. It was nearly empty, save for a few tables. And a note, written in an unknown hand.

Sorry John, I had to run.

John Johnston, the head of the company, was involved. Mulder wanted nothing more than to storm upstairs and yell at the man until he told him where Scully had been taken. Stopping him was the room, it needed to be more thoroughly checked. He slipped on some gloves and began to investigate. The tables had been wiped clean recently; he sniffed one, with bleach. The air was thick with the stench of cleaning chemicals and agents. He opened drawers and cupboards finding nothing.

He approached the fridge and opened it, inside was a framework for holding vials, and a single broken one clattered to the floor as he observed them. He jumped back in surprise and leaned closer to the mess of broken glass shards and transparent fluid. He swiped the solution with his gloved fingertips, rubbing them together, finding the solution viscous. Sniffing it, he could not determine a smell, other than chemical. He took out a bag and went to place the shattered vial in evidence. Before his eyes it began to dissolve. Soon the vial was simply gone, the tile contained a few burn like marks marring its surface. His eyes flicked to his fingers, finding two worn ellipses that allowed him to see his fingers, the plastic of the glove melted clean off. He slid off the glove and put that in the evidence bag instead. Then, he stood slowly, picking up John's note and set on marching up to the offices yet again.

**AN: Thank you, as always. **


	9. Visio Nocturna

Ch. 9 Visio Nocturna

"Every person accounted for?" The lady asked, sharp eyes glinting as he stumbled forward, following her.

"Affirmative," he knew this was the only acceptable answer, and it was true.

"No evidence left?" She raised an eyebrow, yet smiled, looking like she was gloating.

"Affirmative," he answered again in monotone.

"Note to my colleague?" He flicked something out from under a single well-manicured finger nail.

"Written, no fingerprints, left exactly where you specified," he sighed, just hoping that this could all be over soon.

"Excellent," her smile was cracked, revealing a wide array of perfectly straight teeth.

"Would you care to be left alone?" he asked, knowing she would be eager to begin. She stopped smiling and nodded, looking at the small boy in front of her, closing her eyes in concentration, and she vanished.

-o0o-

Scully watched her hallway, she thought of it as hers now, she had awoken here many times, it felt like weeks, yet she had no means of actually tracking time. If she had, she would have known it had been less than 24 hours. She dreamed of many things, fields and space ships, things her conscious mind couldn't account for. A trip in a van, more snippets of conversation, she was almost sure she had woken, but was immediately placed back in her own hallway. She couldn't quantify it, it was illogical in the manner that dreams were, and she found it immensely vexing.

Hearing approaching footfall she straightened and ambled closer to the noise, it could be anything, anyone. At this point she was certain the white halls were of her own making in her head, and that she was asleep.

"Hello dear," a smiling woman greeted her. The woman with the answers, Scully thought turning to face her slowly.

"You are going to tell me what has happened to me," her voice was low, edgy.

"Why would I do that? Everything is going just swimmingly," idiotic smile plastered to her face, gray eyes dancing.

"I need to know," her voice cracked, this was not good she sounded desperate, "What you gave me. And the others, why we aren't dead. I saw the compound in action on a clot of living tissue. It decimated all of its life. We were unable to contain it in its concentrated form and it ate through any vial we put it in after a few minutes."

"And…?" the woman drawled, tracing a line down her razor cheek bones.

"What. Did. You. Give. Me?" Scully spoke in an angry hushed tone.

"Oh, nothing too deadly," the woman looked nearly insane as she added, "yet."

Scully gulped at the 'yet'. This would be her death? Stuck in her own dreams? She desperately wanted to yell and scream at this woman, but sensed it would get her nowhere. So she decided to keep asking, answers would befall her in some way.

"What was it?" The woman sighed and ran her thin hand through her messy brown hair. If not for every facial feature being so very sharp, razor like, she would have been considered quite beautiful. Also, if she hadn't been a homicidal manic, Scully added to the thought.

"A compound developed by the NDSC, originally designed to create a sleep induced coma for the requisite eight hours; you just have had quite a bit more than required."

"You… you can't even know the side effects to that! I could never wake up!" Fear shot through her eyes.

"Not my problem."

"It could be worse; most sleep medications have effects seizure, Benzodiazepines for example, I going to assume Benzodiazepines because they are the most commonly used. They cause dependency, and in overdose cause Cardiorespiratory arrest. And don't even get me started on whatever killed Miss. Valope."

"I don't care, about your Benzap- Benzodiza- whatevers. If you die, it's only one more person to add to a list, don't worry though, I won't give you what killed Lucy, yet," the woman still managed to sound remarkably bored by the conversation.

"They will find you." The sharp woman smiled in spite of her threats, empty or not.

"Agent Scully, let them try," her grin widened and she winked.

"Who are you…?" Scully's eyes widened at her brazenness, this woman she recognized, in a manner she could not discern, was no part of her dream or subconscious. She was real, Scully was nearly completely certain.

And then she was gone.

-o0o-

Mulder reached the offices of Johnston, unfortunately for Janet, he was an unstoppable force. He charged past entering the meeting room again. The doctor who addressed him earlier grinned,

"Welcome back," she smiled when everyone else sat silent, scowling.

He glanced at her, but yelled at Johnston,

"You told me you had no idea what was going on."

Johnston's brow furrowed and he shook his head,

"I still don't."

"Really? Then explain this," Mulder slapped the note to his chest and crossed his arms. Waiting while Johnston groped for the note and held it at arm's length, and watching while he read. His expression molded into one of indignant hilarity, as he attempted to cover up another expression: fear.

"I know you know what that means, you lied. So, tell me."

Johnston resorted to glaring in malice, but was unsuccessful met only with Mulder's stare, and the blank looks of the doctors in meeting.

"You are all dismissed until further notice. Meeting adjourned," he relented. They all traded confused looks, and proceeded out the room to resume their day's duties.

"Good. Now tell me about this note," Mulder demanded, remaining standing as John Johnston poured himself a glass of liquor and sat.

"What about it?" His voice sounded sad, resigned.

"Who is it from? Where did they go? What is their connection to the sleep center? I want to know everything," Mulder summed up after thinking of way too many questions to list.

"I… I don't know where they went," he began to close up swallowing more liquor.

"Johnston, who?" Mulder demanded.

"Melody. Melody Valope and her partner… I don't know who he is." Mulder's eyes widened in surprise.

"Melody. Lucille Valope's sister?"

"Yeah…?" Jack swallowed nervously.

"Are we talking about the same woman here?" Mulder raised an eyebrow in suspition. The woman he had met, was broken certainly, but not in a murdersome fashion.

"You are goin' to think I'm crazy," John pulled at his shirt collar, sweat collecting on his brow and upper lip.

"Try me."

"She—I –We—Lucille…"

"Why don't you start from the beginning. The very beginning," Mulder suggested, watching John struggle to find the place of starting in this story.

"It started last year," he began, closing his eyes as if reading a memory, "Lucille applied for a job, had brilliant credentials, wanted to work here because our company was more lax on experimental trials. She offered her sister as a test subject. We only accepted because her sister's form of insomnia was incredible strange, and we also wanted the opportunity to study it." John took a shaky breath here, "It was unlike any insomnia I had ever seen. She truly didn't sleep. Light alarmed her; she had to live in darkness. It was terrible."

He paused for a while, took a sip of scotch,

"She wasn't getting better. Lucille stayed day and night looking for a cure. One day she came up, claiming Melody was asleep. We went looking, and couldn't find her. When we did, she was in another patient's room, a locked patient's room. She had no idea how she had gotten there and was very afraid. Later that evening she approached me, said she wanted out of the trials, wanted to just be alone. I believed her well enough, it can be quite stressful and with her sisters near constant tests, I couldn't blame her. I let her leave. Lucille was so angry. So angry. But when her sister returned home to live with her, I think she forgave me. I think she started to treat her at home, because I started finding things, chemicals, no one should be touching out in the lab. She was so careful, Lucy, but one day I caught her sneaking out, chemicals in hand. She said she only wanted Melody better, fool I was, believing her like that."

Mulder listened completely now, attention wrapped on the man.

"We tried to get her to tell us what she gave Melody, but all her notes disappeared, and then patient's started to disappear, I noticed, along with several staff, yet others, seemed completely unaware. Slowly they all seemed to forget the missing patients and head about their work. I was appalled myself, until recently I…"

Johnston paused seemingly unsure of why or how he had forgotten the now remembered missing persons.

"Anyway, Lucy turned up in my office, telling me she had been wrong about something, oh so very wrong. But she never got to tell me what, I got taking into a conference call from another branch, and she disappeared. Later that week she turned up dead. I could only assume…" John trailed off, wincing at the impossibility of his implications. A sickly insomniac killing her sister, and Mulder questioned it too,

"Why? Why would she kill her sister?" Eyes sharp, processing. The girl had been treated with an unknown and unknowable drug, it changed something about her. She escaped, continued changing. She killed people. He still couldn't make heads or tails of why.

"I don't know. Behind closed doors, I don't know what happen'd to either of them." John shook his head downing the rest of the scotch in his glass and pouring another.

"Why tell me the story now? What stopped you before?"

"She had been here. I… She leaves me notes. Letters. She will kill me for tellin' you. But she needs to be stopped. Whatever she's become…" he shuddered.

"Mr. Johnston? What has she become?" Mulder asked patiently and Johnston leaned forward,

"A Nightmare."

**AN: So, if you've been paying attention and you are kind of meticulous when it comes to detail, you'd notice that the murderer was freaked out earlier upon hearing that the FBI talked to Melody. Which would be odd because she is Melody. I promise it will be explained, sort of. In the same fashion the X files explains things, (which can mean not at all occasionally), but it is ironed out later. **

**Thank you for reading!**


	10. Somnium Fur

Ch. 10 Somnium Fur

"A nightmare?" Mulder asked, a thin tone of sarcasm invading his words, of course a murderer was a nightmare.

"Yes. She… she somehow interfered with the sleep patterns of the other patients, they felt sleepless, and said that they dreamed, of her. In the mornings their rooms were unlocked. I think she'd been in there. I think she wasn't their when they went to bed, but appeared in their dreams and was there in the morning. Later…they went missing."

"So she stole their energy, their sleep, by appearing in their dreams, which made her appear in the patient's room," Mulder attempted to surmise what Johnston said.

"I didn't say it you did. But I think she took something else," he replied hesitant to continue.

"Dreams. A Dream theif."

"Yes. They often woke up disoriented, remembering only Melody and feeling fatigued. That is part of the reason I helped her escape. Once I did, the odd happenings stopped. For a while. Then they started to disappear. I knew it was her. I, just… Her sister must have given her something terrible to turn her into a sociopath, because before, she was so sweet. So, small and innocent and in need of help." He sighed. "She called herself a Nightmare," Johnston added, looking up into Mulders eyes.

Mulder quickly looked away and swallowed, "No idea where she would have gone?"

"Home? Maybe? It is the only other place I have ever heard of her going."

"Mr. Johnston, you said earlier that Lucille kept checking her phone all day. Do you know why now?"

"I still don't know. I think it was probably Melody. I can't be sure, her phone was take off her body by her killer, who was either Melody or her partner."

"One more thing, why did you lie? We could have helped you."

"Why do people lie? We get scared. She is going to kill me now; it just took me until now to come to the conclusion that it's better for me to die than the many more that would if she went off freely."

"Well thank you, I will call in police if you like, as a protective guard." Mulder stood up, rolling back his shoulders, "I am going to find her, and Scully. Then we are going to figure out what has been happening here. Don't leave town." Johnston merely nodded as Mulder strode out the door. He poured himself another drink as an afterthought. No police guard could have kept away a nightmare.

-o0o-

Scully was surrounded by lights; they cast shadows over her face and danced on her jaw. She felt the lights like she felt everything else in this half-conscious state. She closed her eyes waiting to reappear elsewhere, wishing now to sleep. Just sleep. She found now that she couldn't. Exhaustion tugged on her body, she was weary, opening her eyes was a reflex Scully fought to ignore. She attempted to get up, discovering now that she was bone tiered. Drained, limbs sluggish, she stood only with great effort.

A field, corn, somewhere in North Dakota, a light breeze chilled her skin and the smell of leaves and grass hit her nose. She watched on that hill as a figure approached her. Closer and closer, she saw the sharp boned woman walk. Until she faced Scully, her features gleaming brightly in the night air.

"Hello," she smiled voice absent of any tone. Scully turned and raised an eyebrow. The woman who invaded her dreams mirrored the action with a small quivering smirk.

"I didn't think I would kill you. I thought I could stop. Let you go. You would have been okay. Slightly weary, confused. But okay. And I, I could have disappeared, started over somewhere else. Used my… ability sparingly. But," she laughed, insanity creeping back into her voice, "…but! You were just so detailed, so able to conjure up every image to life. I was enthralled. And now," she said malice edging her tone, "you are going to die."

Scully breathed out, seemingly unfazed. The woman's wild accusations began, she yelled something else, screamed, and laughed like lunatic, but Scully closed her eyes, for once enjoying the ability to end up alone, in a little white room. There was the smallest bit of logic fact in that motion, closing eyes led back here. The only thing that made any sense or reason, however small, was that room.

She shuffled, very slowly to another place, closing the door behind her, finding her mother waiting in their old living room. Her hand flew to her mouth halting the sound it had begun to make. She moved, as quickly as she could, still exhausted to her mother's side. The mother of her dream said nothing, silently stroking her daughters hair as she curled into her side, seeking any comfort, any solace from the never ending nightmare. Scully felt all of five years old again, doing an action she had not done since the days of child hood. She gripped her mother's shoulder, and against her will her eyes flickered shut.

Plain room, no window, fluorescent lights, chemical hospital smell, she was back.

She hardly walked now, leaning into the wall for support, holding onto the belief that maybe one of the doors led to consciousness, led to escaping.

A Church, stained glass windows, golden spires, a wooden pulpit at its head, came into view. Pews lined up into rows, Bibles and choir music mixed along each row. Candle light flickered, flames eating up the air. She reached the row of candles, lighting one with another. Gripping her cross necklace between fore and middle fingers she knelt in front of the pulpit, praying for the first time in a long time.

Walls, a box in room format, almost nothing left, Scully got up, pressing onwards, clinging to the wall side. She felt its smooth surface, as it captured her fingerprints; she turned the knob on another door. Her last door.

It opened with a groan, it was so heavy, and she pushed until it was side enough to fall through. And she did, ending up back in the sleep center. People circulated right around her, as if she was a normal immobile fixture in their way. In some ways she was, she was dreaming, and in the illogical sense that dreams flowed, her being there was bound to transpire. These things existed only in her head. At least that is what she told herself. She plodded down the halls, poking in rooms, still unaware of who killed Lucille Valope. Well, she knew very well who, thoughts drifting to the brown haired, sharp lady. The same woman who was slowly killing her. The medications for being put to sleep she had been given could not last in overdose much longer, and paired with the mystery substance of death… She had no idea what the combined effect could be. Scully massaged her temple, this was so complicated. Medications involving some kind of substance erosion should have killed the bodies she had seen in the lab. Unless… she pondered, unless on their own, they couldn't do anything. They had to be combined with something else, something… deadly enough to kill.

So that was it. The originally fluid, purpose probably to aid in sleep, was harmless. So what made it deadly? If it had been made of Benzodiazepines, inducing a sleep coma, much like the one she was in, it wasn't outright bad. What was it then? Something strongly acidic, maybe? Scully was too tired to come up with anything substantial. To sort through the facts, until logic spoke, to find whatever psychotropic drug that cause hallucinogenic dreams, one that was acidic and deadly…

Plain room, no window, fluorescent lights, chemical hospital smell, she was back and unable to get up. Unable to open her eyes, she lay in silence, in darkness. Later she felt a beat of pressure on her arm, heard manic laughter, and wondered if she had finally woken up, or if she was still dreaming.

-o0o-

Night had fallen. It was a cloudless, moonless night, only the light of the stars reached the outskirts of Rugby, and many stars there were. Entire constellations never seen by city slickers were shining in all relative brightness. No trees, no cast shadows, no contrast, everywhere to been seen was simply shroud in inky black.

Mulder drove down the roads, a bit faster that he intended, reaching Melody's house in a matter of minutes. After talking to John, he now knew the drugs in his partners system could kill her. He had called Jack Conoway, who told him that the other victim, a registration worker, had died from the same injected compound that Lucille Valope had. Now Scully was with the Nightmare, and her chemical compounds. Now Mulder felt fear creeping up his spine.

He ran into the house, breaking past the lock door with a swift kick. He ran inside, past stairwell, pause turned around and went back down the stair well. Mulder reached the bottom, a single door in his path, he shoved it open. It was empty.

**AN: Thank you all readers, reveiwers, followers. The next chapter is the end!**


	11. Inpossibilia

Ch. 11 Inpossibilia

John Johnston had fallen asleep. Drool puddled on his mahogany desk, nightmares circling in the darkness. Soft blinking light and the smooth hum of a computer circled the room. His hand slipped off the bottle of scotch, dropping to his waist. He dreamed of seeing Melody Valope for the last time. As she laughed in his face, yelled,

"You traitor!"

He had no response, simply waited, and waited to die. She disappeared, he came to, waking in his offices and Melody's partner stood in front of him teeth flashing in the darkness. His door opened wide, dead police men slumped at the frame.

"I sent 'em after y'all. You won't get away, he works with impossible things. I read his file."

The burly man said not a word, just shuffled through a bag, coming up with a silver pen like item. He pressed the side revealing a needle, walking closer to Johnston. John knew he was about to die. He sipped the last of his scotch, absently wishing he'd kept a gun in his office. He didn't struggle, figuring it would merely be a longer death at that. The man held the metal prong up sliding it to Johnston's neck. Leaving after it was finished; the man didn't particularly care to watch the bodies form sludge.

-o0o-

Mulder looked at the empty room, arms loose by his sides. He turned heel and began to scour the house. They had to have gone somewhere Melody knew about, which limited things due to her aversion to light. Where… he wondered… and how did she move all those people so quickly? It had to be near the sleep center. Nothing was out there, nothing. He went into Melody's room, desks, floors covered in paper. Finding brochures on the sleep center, on the surrounding area. Maps of the sleep center, lines hashed on paper. Siphoning through papers, he turned to nothing else of interest. He sighed, picking up the map of the center again. The strange lines dashed along the page led in various directions, but finding nothing else remotely interesting he decided to attempt following the lines.

He grabbed the map, leaving the house and entering the car. Driving running back and forth, he was beginning to get tired. The sleep center rose up in the distance, a police car out front. Mulder parked his car, saw a man running out of the building into the fields. He abandoned all thoughts on the map.

"Hey!" he yelled, taking off after the tall man. Corn slapped his face and tugged at his coat as he chased the man in the night. With no light to guide him he only followed the sound of crunching footfalls. He reached a clearing and the man faced him, holding out a silver device.

"Go home. Forget us, this, maybe she'll let you live."

"No. You took my partner I intend to get her back. And then I will put you in prison," there was a bit of glee, a lot of anger in the sentance, his voice low, dangerous.

The man stalked closer and Mulder drew his gun, the man lunged, Mulder tried to fire, discovering his gun didn't work. The burly man laughed.  
"Everyone is always so surprised, guns don't work. It's this," he waggled a new device from his pocket, "I built it myself."

Mulder took the opportunity while the man was distracted to hit his wrist with his gun, causing him to drop the pronged object. He picked it up and threw it into the corn fields, where the man would have a difficult time locating it.

"Guess the gun is still good for something," Mulder said.

The man's eyes narrowed, he turned and chased after the device. Mulder looked at the map, attempting to find out where he was. Locating a clearing on the map, he ran off in the direction of the x, somewhat close to his current position.

He found the x, a bunker. Wooden doors in the ground lay at his feet. They were battered, he couldn't have guessed at their original purpose, but decided to head down as quickly as possible to avoid running into the man again.

He took out a flash light, shining it down the hole. Melody was clever, avoiding light and detection. Not using her own home. If she hadn't forgotten to clean her room, Mulder thought , he never would have found the place. He stuck the flash light in his mouth, climbing down the ladder. His feet hit the ground and he let out a small grunt. He turned around, surveying the room, recovering the flashlight and shining it about.

Bodies, in clear cases, surrounded by fluids, some were clothed, others not. Mulder looked through them, searching for his partner, half hoping she was present so he could find her here, half hoping she was somewhere safer.

Scully was in one such container, silver instruments at her side, much like the one the man had held. Thinking of Mulder wondered where Melody was. He lifted the top portion of the container off. Hesitated where the fluid was, but figuring it hadn't dissolved his partner yet, he reached in pulling her out. The viscous solution slid off her face, clothes as he freed her from the container.

He checked to see if she had a pulse, she did. The nose and mouths of every person were up, free of breathing in the solution. He looked at the others, resting in containers, surrounded by dirt walls, dirt floors, he carried Scully up the ladder hoist her body over his shoulder. Set her on the grass outside. He sat next to her, pulling his cell phone, to call local police to the scene, ambulances, anything to rescue the people.

He hung up the phone, sitting down on the earth, next to his fast asleep partner.

"Just like old times, you asleep on duty, me saving the day…"

The man reappeared at that moment, prong in hand, Mulder sprang to his feet, standing in front of his partner. He lunged for Mulder who dodged, the man tripped over Scully, landing on the ground. Mulder picked up his partner, running. The man smacked his head on the door, falling unconscious. Mulder walked as quickly as he could, while retaining his bearings in the corn field. He was wearing thin, carrying his partner, running around all day. He reached the sleep center, steps faltering as he crossed the threshold of the doors.

"Help…" he said to the front desk setting Scully on the floor. "She was put in a coma… needs help…" The front desk lady's eyes widened as she called down a doctor, telling him of the woman's condition.

"You are lucky this is a sleep center sir, and that her condition is relevant. We couldn't help her otherwise."

Doctor's arrived, taking Scully away; Mulder attempted to follow but was blocked. He sat down in one of the chairs but the desk, falling asleep.

-o0o-

Melody reached the bunker, coming across her partner's unconscious form. She dropped her shopping bag on the ground.

"Wake up," she shook him, "You fool wake up! Damn you." She dropped the body as his eyes craned open and up.

"Sorry sir, they got away," he swallowed, he felt like crying, she was going to kill him.

Her eyes flashed darkly, "Got away? They know we are here…." She pondered her options, they were few. She could turn herself in, hope for a lighter sentence. She could run, destroy the evidence. After all, her eyes flicked to the bag she had planned that anyway. Start over; wipe her memories like she did when she had to meet the FBI. She just wouldn't have her partner to bring them back. She remembered her concern when he had talked to Melody Valope. Simply because it was her. She couldn't remember that, as she had her mind wiped. Only recently had the memory resurfaced. This was confusing even to her.

Her memories that weren't hers, the dreams of others, ridding herself of her own memories just to talk not give anything away. Being shocked that someone had met her and she couldn't remember. She could do it again though, and she would.

"Burn it," she growled at the muscular man, "Burn them."

"All of them?" He asked mouth agape.

"All of them." She confirmed, snarl turning into a smile, "Then go. Forget me. Forget everything. It's time to move on. Escape."

"Yes," he said, though he didn't want to.

"Oh, one more thing, could you go in, grab my purse?" she asked smiling sweetly.

"Yes, sir." He opened the doors, crawled down, unsuspecting.

Melody locked the doors from above, grabbing the can on gasoline from her bag on the ground, pouring it over the wooden doors. She flicked a match to life dropping it on the doors. It went up in flames that ate the night air. She turned around and walked away. No loose ends. She started the process of deleting memories. It was time to start over.

-o0o-

Scully was still asleep, was due to wake any time now thanks to the doctor's treatment of flumazenil. Counter agent to what she had been given. She had been transferred to the hospital in town, recovering faster now.

Her eyes opened and seeing the average hospital, chairs in the room windows she knew she was awake. A bird flew by the window, doctors and nurses shuffled by.

Mulder walked in soon after.

"You really need to stop sleeping on the job," he smiled. Scully rolled her eyes,

"Did you find her? The woman, she had brown hair, pointy features… and the man, who attacked me? I can't remember anything else." Scully focused but her memories went fuzzy after the man injected her. The only detail she seemed to know was the woman. She had done this.

"No," he frowned, "she burned everything. We don't even know what killed those people. And more who died in a fire."

"Who was she?" her brow narrowed.

"Melody Valope. Her partner—they recovered his remains in the fire too."

"So what happened, after I was…" she trailed off. Mulder started to tell the story, holding her hand reminding himself she was here, awake.

-o0o-

Northern Ireland

A small white inn sitting atop cliffs of green rocky land. A brusque, red haired older woman runs the inn. The old white door swings open a petite brunette walks up to the front desk.

"Hello, I'd like a room for the night?" She asks politely.

"For who is this reservation?"

"Melody." She doesn't remember anything else, just her name. Doesn't even know how she ended up in Ireland, the accent is American or so she is told. She smiles widely at the woman.

_Finis_

**AN: Thank you for reading, following, and reviewing! Hope you enjoyed the story, I had fun writing it! Final comments, questions, quelms, and demands may be submitted below.**


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